


By My Side

by Ashes_and_Emeralds



Category: X-Men - All Media Types
Genre: At Least as Close to Canon as I Could Make It, Canon, Erik Has Feelings, Erik is Crushing Harder than a 12-year Old Girl, Fluff, Love Confessions, M/M, POV Erik
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-24
Updated: 2017-08-24
Packaged: 2018-12-19 10:41:38
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,009
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11896044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ashes_and_Emeralds/pseuds/Ashes_and_Emeralds
Summary: Erik invites Charles over for a drink, and decides it's time to tell him what he should have told him long ago





	By My Side

He had always been so beautiful to Erik. Not just in one way or another. Not just looks, not just his mind, but everything... Everything about him was beautiful. Even his naive idealism was somehow beautiful in its own way. His face, his power, his warmth, his kindness, his piercing blue eyes, his intellect, his determination, his cherry-red lips curved into that soft smile, that smile that had so often made Erik think thoughts he didn't understand for the longest time. He had forgotten how it felt to be close to another being, especially as he got older and could feel the memories of his  _mutti_  grow fainter and fainter with every passing day. He didn't remember what it was like to crave someone's presence, to feel different without them, to feel your heart tug whenever they looked at you, and not really knowing why. In truth, he did not know if he had ever felt it at all, the feeling that most people would equate to love. He couldn't have felt it, because he didn't know how. He didn't know how to feel much of anything other than anger, and pain. 

 

And for the longest time Erik did not know what exactly he felt when he thought of Charles, just that it was different than how he had ever seen someone else before. It wasn't that he simply felt for him as a close friend— well, he did, but the way he felt about Charles went beyond the way he'd felt about his (albeit few) other friends. It wasn't a crush. Erik didn't have crushes; crushes were fleeting, shallow things that plagued schoolgirls too giddy and naïve to care otherwise. It wasn't a sexual feeling; he didn't feel around Charles the way he did when he carried a girl off for a night of fun, at least not in the same way, and Erik had never looked at men in that way. It wasn't simple admiration either. Erik admired him, yes, but found this feeling was, for the most part, buried under layers of annoyance at Charles' decision making. And admiring someone certainly wouldn't have made Erik feel  _pained_  so often as Charles did. But there was something about Charles, ever since he first reached into his mind those years ago, ever since he had felt  _touched_  by another in such a way that was even more intimate than any sexual encounter he'd ever had, that made Erik's chest tighten, his throat feel clenched and breathless, and his head distorted but clear at the same time. It was as if he moved about the world invisible to others, every person he passed nothing but a shadow, untouchable, so close but so distant, ever just out of Erik's reach. And Charles was the first one who saw him, truly saw him, not a shadow, but a solid figure amongst the crowd, glowing bright as if inviting Erik into his warm presence. And he was the first Erik could touch, and feel, and know he was truly there. Like he had been waiting for him all his life, waiting for Erik to find him.

 

Erik had always wanted Charles to realize he was better. Better than the humans who Erik was sure would kill him one day, better than the mutants he spent his life training, better even than Erik himself; he was truly perfection incarnate. And sitting here even with his broken legs and bald head, staring over the horizon on the ocean into the sunset, with a peaceful serenity Erik had not seen from him in so long, he had never looked more perfect. 

 

"Charles..." he called out to him as he stepped up out onto the deck to hand him a glass of wine, taking a sip of his own as he did so, "what are you thinking on?"

The other man turned his head and smiled a bit, "Actually, nothing. Isn't that the point, old friend? I thought I came here to forget thinking about the past, the present, the future, and....well, thinking, for a while."

"You did," Erik responded as Charles took the glass of wine into his hand. He sat down across from his old friend, "You just looked so pensive. I thought maybe..."

"Well, you have always been strangely connected to my brain, Erik, for not being a telepath," Charles interrupted, "Fine, you caught me. I was thinking about what causes the different colors of the sunset."

"And...?"

"And what?"

"What causes them?"

"Oh, you know, scattering of light, wavelengths, something of that nature. I don't know the nitty gritty details, I'm a geneticist, Erik, not a sky scientist."

Erik could not contain his laughter, "A  _sky scientist,_ Charles? Is that the best you could come up with?" 

Charles shook his glass of wine in Erik's face, "Be quiet. I'm a little drunk, maybe." 

Erik opened his mouth to tease him about only having had one glass, but decided against it, and instead watched his friend watching the sunset again, thinking once more on how perfect he was. 

 

After a few minutes the silence was suddenly broken once again, "What about you?"

Erik looked at him confusedly, "What about me?"

"What are you thinking about?"

"Nothing," he lied quickly.

Charles smirked and shook his head, "My friend, I can read minds. You can't lie to me."

Erik sighed, silently admitting defeat, "Fine. I was actually thinking about the past, the present, the future.... I guess you can say I cheated."

"I thought we promised not to think about those things, Erik," Charles said softly, almost looking disappointed.

"Haven't you learned already not to trust me or my promises?" He glanced at his friend out of the corner of his eye.

 

That had stung Charles harder than he had meant it, and instead of teasing he seemed to have taken it as a punch to the gut. He looked away from Erik, facial expression miles different from the serenity it had been just moments before. 

"You're right," he said after a while, "maybe I shouldn't be here." 

He turned his wheelchair to roll back into the house, and presumably out of the front door, and Erik suffered what felt like a tiny heart attack. 

"Charles," he said quickly, urgently, "no. I don't want you to leave."

Charles turned to face him, somber, "Then what do you want?"

Erik looked at him intently, "I want you to stay. Just like I've always wanted." 

 

When Charles didn't respond he continued, "You, and me.... as strong as we are on our own, we're stronger together."

Charles almost rolled his eyes, having heard this so many times before, "What are you on about, Erik?"

"You make me better, Charles."

"I swear Erik, if you wanted me here just to recruit me, I won't--" 

Erik cut him off, "That's not it. That's not... what I meant. You make my powers stronger, yes, but you make me better in other ways, too. Ways that... no one else has been able to."

"What are you on about..." Charles repeated, sounding much more like a statement than a question. 

Erik moved towards his friend as Charles rolled himself into the house, stepping all the way inside and shutting the porch door behind him. The difference in temperature between the house and the porch was stark, and he couldn't tell whether the goose-flesh and the chills he felt through his body was due to the coolness of inside or something else entirely. 

 

"I want you by my side," his voice was heavy and deep, but softer than usual at the same time. Charles was spinning around to face him as Erik took more steps towards him. He leaned down to be eye level with Charles, resting his own arm on the arm of the wheelchair. It made a soft creaking sound as it adjusted to his weight. 

"Erik," this time Charles sounded much angrier, snapping at him as if he was growing entirely impatient.

 

The wheelchair creaked again as Erik leaned, drowning out whatever else Charles might have wanted to say. Erik didn't know how else to tell Charles his thoughts and feelings, unless the telepath read his mind. He didn't know how else to make his friend understand the meaning of the words coming out of his mouth, and wasn't so sure if he himself understood the meaning either. 

 

The kiss wasn't long, and it wasn't deep, and it tasted more like wine than he imagined it would. In fact it tasted nothing like he'd ever imagined it would. Those red lips had always made Erik think kissing him must taste like cherries... foolish, he knew, but he couldn't help imagining it. 

 

What felt like half a second later, he was staring at Charles, still eye level but pulled away from him slightly. He would have thought the event was all in his imagination had Charles not been looking at him like he he had suddenly transformed into a giant rubber duck. He half expected Charles to hit him, half expected him to simply turn and leave, but instead, Charles simply scoffed.

"You are a batshit old man, Erik." 

 

He didn't expect to be insulted in such a manner and simply stared at him stupidly, opening his mouth and then shutting it again, silently.

"I don't know what kind of emotional manipulation you're trying to pull, but it's sick. It's sick and it's not going to work."

"It's not a trick, Charles," Erik was becoming frustrated by his friend's mistrust of him and misunderstanding of the situation, "I swear... look into my mind, as far as you want, anywhere you want. I swear it's not a trick. I love you. You're the only one...." he trailed off and then sighed, repeating, "you're the only one… I've ever felt this way for. The only one who's been my true friend all this time. The only one I feel safe with. The only one who's ever made me feel a comfort I've never known before. Charles.. I didn't know what love was before I met you. I only knew pain, and anger. You.... you showed me..." he trailed off, feeling breathless, feeling like if he continued any further he might choke on his words, like his throat would swell up. Would he finally lose Charles, after all of these years, after everything he's done, only because he spoke the truth? He watched his friend's face change, becoming softer, less angry, and he tried not to feel hopeful that maybe Charles felt the same way. 

"My friend.... I'm sorry... I didn't know," he finally said, sounding sympathetic. 

"I know," said Erik, "I know I've done things that would make you think the opposite. I'm... sorry."

It had been too many years for Erik to care about their differences anymore. In the past he might've cursed himself for softening for Charles or even entertaining the idea of an apology, but perhaps all those years that he had criticized Charles' idealism he had had his own kind of idealism as well. All he truly knew was that he cared more about Charles than he did about anything else anymore. He always had, he just hadn't been able to get past his own stubbornness. 

 

He watched the tears well up in Charles' eyes, and reached out to wipe one off his cheek. As he did so, a huge rush of emotions flooded his brain, foreign in nature, yet similar to his own feelings. A warmth spread throughout his body until he felt overwhelmed, overtaken completely by what felt like an ocean of happiness, and pain, and frustration, and relief all at once. An intimacy he hadn't felt in years... He felt Charles touch the depths of his mind, reaching into him, filling him with his own truths and desires. 

_I, too, want you by my side,_ Erik heard ringing in his ears, sweetly, just before he felt himself being pulled closer. He heard the creak of the wheelchair, and felt the taste of wine grazing his lips.


End file.
